


A Winter's Tale

by Suzie_Shooter



Category: Alex Rider - Anthony Horowitz
Genre: Blow Jobs, Hand Jobs, M/M, Masturbation, Oral Sex, Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-26
Updated: 2012-02-26
Packaged: 2017-10-31 18:28:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/347112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Suzie_Shooter/pseuds/Suzie_Shooter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mistletoe gets Alex rather more than he bargained for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Winter's Tale

Alex had imagined being an assassin – or at least working with one – would be many different things. In some respects he'd been right; however what he'd failed to anticipate was how much of it would involve simply _waiting_.

Yassen appeared to think nothing of arriving at a location upwards of twenty four hours before his target was due to arrive, hence why they were currently stuck in a godforsaken mid-European barn with the light fading outside, and the smell of manure drifting in from the gently steaming heap in the corner of the orchard.

While Alex conceded this was a good tactical move, he was finding he simply didn’t have the Russian's patience. After an hour or two he'd get bored, or cramped, or need the loo.

The fact that they were a reasonable distance away from the nearest dwellings meant Yassen was so far restricting himself to irritated glances whenever Alex tried to make muted conversation, rather than, say, slapping him round the head.

Alex was prowling the perimeter of the barn restlessly. He reflected miserably that a barn at Christmas should be a cheerful thing, full of sweet smelling hay and built of ancient timbers. Not something with walls that let the wind through and a corrugated iron roof that was rattling loudly with the persistent rain. 

He shrugged himself deeper into his fur lined coat, grateful now that despite his protests Yassen had made him wear it.

The one spot of colour he could find in the drab building was a substantial amount of greenery, apparently laid in for the village's winter festivities. (It was, in fact, the guest of honour they were waiting for). 

He poked at it dubiously, then yelped as something stabbed his finger. 

"Now what have you done?"

The quiet voice behind him made him jump and he spun round, flushing guiltily. 

"Nothing. Just pricked myself on the holly, that's all."

Yassen grasped his wrist, cold fingers wrapped in an iron grip around his pulse point. Raised Alex's hand up to examine it. A bright red bead of blood was welling up, echoing the fire of the holly berries in the trough. Yassen gave a mirthless twist of the lips.

"Like calls to like," he murmured softly. "Thorns and blood. It's the time of year for it," he added, almost to himself. Drew Alex's hand up higher, and sucked the blood from his finger, slowly.

Alex felt suddenly warm all over for the first time that day. 

Feeling a flush of recklessness, he reached back down into the bunches of greenery and pulled out a tangle of something else. Held it up for Yassen to see.

"All this mistletoe lying around, got to be worth at least one kiss, don’t you think?" he teased, hopefully.

Yassen dropped his wrist and cast an amused glance at the sprig he was brandishing. Took it from Alex's hand, and drew it between them. 

"A poisonous parasite." He smiled, consideringly. "I've always rather liked it." 

Spellbound, Alex watched as Yassen deliberately took one of the tight, luminous white berries between finger and thumb, and slowly squeezed. White, sticky juice suddenly burst over his fingertips, oozing from the ruined skin. 

Alex shifted, jeans feeling abruptly tight. Yassen was watching him closely, and glancing up, Alex caught the Russian moistening his lips. 

"How long have we got?" Alex asked, in a voice that seemed to have become rather hoarse.

"Long enough." Yassen made no move though, still absent-mindedly smearing the mistletoe flesh between his fingertips. 

Alex followed the movement with his eyes, and Yassen seemed to recover himself with a shake of his head, wiping his hand on the seat of his trousers.

"Did you want me to – " Alex started, hesitantly. 

"Shhh." Yassen placed a hand in the middle of Alex's chest and pushed him backwards, making him stumble as he tried to keep his balance. 

Alex found he was being propelled towards a pile of straw, and let himself sink down, glad the thick coat was protecting him from the worst of the prickling stems.

Kneeling across his thighs, Yassen unfastened Alex's coat with practised fingers. He pulled it open and Alex let his arms slide out of the sleeves. Less restricted now, he reached out to Yassen's flies, fingers brushing hesitantly across the distended material, not through uncertainty, but rather waiting for permission. Yassen pressed into the touch, and Alex took his cue, pulling the trousers open and down, letting Yassen's cock spring free.

Yassen closed his eyes briefly in pleasure as Alex's cold fingers wrapped eagerly around him. 

By now he'd stripped Alex practically naked. Expression unreadable, for a second Yassen looked down at the boy – man, now, almost – sprawled beneath him, dishevelled blond hair bright against the dark fur, pale body writhing slightly with anticipation, cock swollen and straining. Then without warning he bent and took Alex into his mouth, conscious of his stifled gasp of surprise, followed by involuntary groan of pleasure.

The winter air was cold, but the fur coat was warm and Yassen's mouth was warmer. Alex, once realising Yassen wasn't going to pull away again, bucked eagerly into his mouth, hardly able to contain himself. The stroke of the Russian's tongue along his shaft, the firm hands gripping his hips, the way he sucked and swallowed around him – 

Alex threw his head back, fingers clutching convulsively at the folds of the coat, spilling violently into Yassen's mouth, wracked by intense spasms of ecstasy.

Panting, he opened his eyes, to find Yassen kneeling over him, managing to look both predatory and extremely self-satisfied.

Alex sat up, eyes locked onto Yassen's, and leaned forward, delicately licking a white bead from the corner of the Russian's mouth.

Yassen, by now aroused almost to the point of pain, pushed Alex sharply, so he fell back onto the fur with a surprised huff of breath. Compliant, he lay there watching as Yassen took his own cock in hand and began to roughly pump himself, not taking his eyes off Alex's sprawled body. 

Silently, Alex drew a finger over his own nipples, hard buds in the biting cold, suppressing a smile as Yassen let a single stifled breath escape his lips. Alex let his hand slide further down, over his belly, back up, tucked it behind his head, lying back, breathing almost as fast as Yassen, knowing he was close. 

Biting down hard on his lip Yassen came with a convulsive spasm, hot spurts against Alex's cold skin, white trails coating his groin and belly, that made Alex start to stiffen all over again.

Yassen leaned over him, breath hot against Alex's neck. Pressed a kiss to the pulse in his throat, mouth lingering there for a long, still moment.

Then he was gone, rising silently to his feet, adjusting his clothing, and moving off to resume his silent watch out across the orchard. Leaving Alex, fingers trailing idly through the cooling mess on his stomach, with plenty to think about for once. 

\--


End file.
